Dance Into Destiny Read online

  “It’ll be fun. Come on. Pick something.”

  “I don’t see what’s so fun about painting pottery. If I want a cup, I can just go buy one. And look at these prices. I can get something already painted for what they’re charging. I gotta stop hanging with you. You’re gonna have me broke before—” She gasped.

  Keeva turned around to see what was wrong.

  Shara was almost hugging a large teapot. “This is perfect. A close friend of mine loves to make the most wonderful tea out of fresh herbs. She would love this.” She turned the pot over. “Okay, this might be fun.” She headed for the table they had picked out. Paint colors were lined up for them to choose from.

  Keeva chose a large mug and sat down across from Shara. They painted in silence for a few moments.

  Keeva finally broke the silence. “Shar?”

  “Yeah, Keev.” Shara bit her lip as she painted a large squiggle on the side of the teapot.

  “How come you’ve never invited me to your church?”

  Shara looked up. “I don’t know. I guess because you told me you don’t see the point of going to church, so I guess I didn’t see the point in inviting you.”

  They painted in silence again.

  “Yeah, but you see the point, right?” Keeva said.

  “What point?” Shara’s tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on painting the pot again.

  “The point of going to church.”

  “Of course I do. Why do you ask?”

  “Maybe there’s something I’m missing. Seems like something so important to you that you believe so strongly in, you would want to share with someone.”

  Shara nodded and kept painting.

  Keeva waited for her to answer, but she didn’t. Keeva painted a large, yellow flower on the side of her cup. They both painted for a few minutes until Keeva broke the silence again. “Shar?”

  “Huh?”

  “After everything you went through growing up in church, what made you ever want to go back again?”

  Shara put her teapot down. “What’s up with the deep questions? I thought we were gonna paint and relax, you know, get in touch with our creative sides.”

  “Just asking. You have to admit, it’s strange to go through all you went through and still want to go to church.”

  Shara let out a deep breath. “To tell the truth, after I left home, I didn’t want to have anything to do with God. I didn’t want to go anywhere near a church. I didn’t want to touch a Bible. I felt like I’d had enough of God and church to last me the rest of my life.”

  “So what happened? What made you go back?”

  “Desperation, I guess.” Shara rinsed her paintbrush and dabbed it in the purple paint.

  Keeva waited for her to explain.

  “When I first moved to Atlanta, I felt like the country mouse that’d moved to the city. I was lonely and depressed. I didn’t want to go home on the weekends though, because I needed to be away from my parents and their rules.” Shara examined the teapot, turning it from side to side. “I didn’t have many friends and I had to work to put myself through school, so I was tired all the time. Then I met this guy and he became my first boyfriend. Things were better for a while, but then we got into a big fight and he spread all these lies about me and things got even worse.

  “I started to feel guilty, like maybe God was punishing me for turning my back on Him, so I decided to go to church. That made things even worse. It was as if I had slipped back into my childhood. The pastor preached about all the sins we were going to hell for. He ended with a rousing homily on if we just hold on, everything would be all right. I was so tired of that ‘hold on’ theology. I wanted to know ‘what about right now?’

  “I was so depressed when I left that service, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had tried the one thing that was supposed to work and it didn’t. When I went to bed that night, I prayed that God would help me. Nothing fancy, I literally just said, ‘God, help me.’ From then on, my life started to change.

  “Not too long after that, I ended up renting a room from this older lady. Over the past few years, she’s taught me so much about God and spirituality. That’s who the teapot is for. I started going to her church and it also radically changed my life.”

  Keeva couldn’t imagine any church radically changing anyone’s life. She had seen people “get saved” and be excited for about six months, and then settle back into their old life again. She had also seen people who regularly went to church more depressed and stressed than she was. Then she had met enough people who said they were Christians who were so full of hell, they made you not want to have anything to do with the church. For Shara to say God and church had radically changed her life and for it to stick . . .

  It made her curious. She had never met anyone like Shara. She wasn’t annoying like a lot of Christians she knew. She didn’t say, “Praise the Lord,” every other sentence and she never complained when Keeva played V103 in the car. She didn’t act all holy and try to make Keeva feel bad because she didn’t go to church. Her Christianity seemed to be a part of her life rather than something she felt the need to smother other people with. It made Keeva interested enough to at least see what Shara’s church was about.

  “Well, I think if you’re gonna be the good Christian you claim to be, you should invite me to your church.”

  Shara looked up from her teapot. “Okay, you’re welcome to come any time.”

  “Shara!”

  “What?” She smiled. “Okay, tomorrow morning, I’ll pick you up on my way. Let me warn you, though. It’s not church like you’re used to. And don’t wear any fancy black people church clothes—no big hats or fancy dresses or stockings and heels. Wear something comfortable.”

  Keeva nodded, becoming even more intrigued. They painted for a few more minutes. This time Shara broke the silence.

  “Keeva?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When you said you didn’t see the point of going to church, what did you mean?”

  “Now who’s asking the deep questions?” Keeva painted her name on the bottom of her cup.

  “I guess it never really did anything for me. You hear a few songs and then a man gets up and gives an emotional speech. You may feel excited for a few minutes, you may even cry, but then what? I’ve never really heard anything in church that changed my life.

  “I mean, like you said, they preach ‘hold on.’ Till what? Next week? Then what—hold on some more? What good does that do? I think a lot of church people use their religion as an escape. You hear some good preaching and good singing and it makes you feel better. Other people go to church to do penance for all the dirt they did during the week. And church people are so fake. I hate hypocrites. They judge you because you don’t go to church, but their lives aren’t any different. I’ve seen people say ‘Praise the Lord’ and then cuss you out in the next minute. It doesn’t seem real to me.”

  Shara nodded. “I know what you mean. I felt the same way until I started going to my church. A lot of churches and church people give God a bad name. There’s a scripture in the Bible that says the traditions of men make the word of God of none effect. That’s so true. All our religious rituals dilute the reality of who God is and make a lot of people not want to have anything to do with Him. I had to learn to reject ‘churchianity’ and not Christianity.”

  Keeva frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  “A lot of what we do in church or believe about God has nothing to do with God. It does nothing to help us develop a real relationship with Him. It’s just what we’ve always done, so we continue to do it that way. We have so many doctrines, rituals and rules that are worthless. And it kills us, because it keeps us from the truth and reality of who God is.

  “I guess that was my biggest problem with my dad’s church. I grew up thinking I had to be perfect for God to love me. I always thought God was this mean ogre, far away in heaven, with a big stick in His hand, waiting to punish me. An
ything that went wrong in my life had to be punishment for some sin I had committed. I must have thought a wrong thought, or I didn’t pray enough or read my Bible enough. Over the past few years, I’ve had to unlearn all that stuff and try to find out who God really is. It wasn’t easy. I literally had to be un-brainwashed. But to have the relationship with God I have now was well worth it.”

  Keeva looked puzzled. “You always use that phrase, ‘relationship with God’. What do you mean by that?”

  “God wants to have a friendship with each and every one of us. Look at it this way. When we first met, we didn’t know each other. I had preconceived notions about you and I’m sure you had preconceived notions about me. But over time, we’ve started to get to know each other. We’ve talked, shared our thoughts, ideas, personal feelings—we’ve developed a relationship. It’s the same way with God. He wants to talk to us and us to talk to Him.” Shara explained further.

  Keeva could tell she was really passionate about this God stuff. It made her all the more interested in going to her church and seeing what it was about.

  By the time Shara finished, Keeva felt like she understood a little better. She wasn’t sure she could have a relationship with God like Shara had, but with the way she had been feeling, it was worth trying.

  When Keeva got home, her answering machine light was blinking. Eleven messages. She checked the caller-ID machine. All from Mark. She’d left her cell phone off all day, not wanting to be bothered.

  She could predict what the messages said. The first one would be him asking her to spend the day with him. The second would be him wondering where she was. Messages three through eight would be him becoming progressively angrier, until he was almost shouting obscenities on message nine. Number ten would be him sheepishly apologizing for all the horrible things he’d said in three through nine and eleven would be completely pitiful, ending with him begging her to call as soon as she got in.

  The phone rang. The caller ID displayed Mark’s name and number. If she didn’t answer it, he’d probably be there in ten minutes, planning to wait for her until she got home.

  “Hello?”

  “Keeva, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you. Why haven’t you called?”

  “Mark, I’m fine. I was with my friend, Shara. We had to finish our project.”

  Another white lie. Thanks to Shara’s “analness,” they had finished the project last week. Had she told him that or not?

  “I thought you finished that a week ago.”

  Oops. “I thought we’d finished it, but Shara wanted to make some changes. She’s a perfectionist. Anyway, I think it’s done now. Sorry, baby, I should have called.”

  “Seems like you’ve been spending a lot of time with this Shara person lately. I sometimes wonder if you even want to be with me anymore.”

  “Mark, honey, please don’t be insecure. I’m just trying to do whatever I have to do to make sure I don’t fail this program. I would think you would understand and support me so I can do the best I can in school.” There—she’d answered his guilt trip with one of her own.

  “I’m coming over there, Keeva. I think we need to talk in person.”

  “No, Mark. I’m tired from studying and I want to go to sleep. I don’t feel like talking.”

  “This is no way to maintain a healthy relationship. I’m on my way.”

  “I’m going to bed. I’m asking you not to come over. Can’t you respect that?”

  “Princess, we need to be together. All this time apart is bad for our relationship. We won’t talk. I’ll just hold you and we can both go to sleep.” He hung up before she could answer.

  Keeva slammed the phone down. She wanted to crawl into her bed by herself and get some sleep. She knew he would want to stay in bed half the morning, have sex a few times, and then go to Sunday brunch. She would have to explain why she was going to church, and why she wasn’t going to the church they went to together sometimes.

  She decided to try to fall asleep before he got there, although there was very little chance of that happening. She crawled into bed and put her satin sleep mask on. About twenty-five minutes later, he crawled into bed beside her. She pretended to be asleep. Maybe he would leave her alone and she could sneak away in the morning.

  That was too good to be true. She felt his hands roaming. She debated—give in and get it over with or pretend to be dead sleep and not respond? She tried fake sleeping for a few minutes, but his roaming became more annoying.

  Keeva pretended to be waking up. “Hi, honey, you’re here.”

  Mark didn’t even bother to answer. He kissed her and then rolled on top of her. She didn’t bother to resist. It was amazing how fast he fell asleep afterwards. She literally had to roll him off of her.

  She turned toward her bedroom window and stared out of it. Depression settled into her chest. She felt a little better as she thought about visiting Shara’s church the next morning. Shara’s words from their conversation that afternoon came to mind.

  Yeah—she definitely needed God to radically change her life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Keeva dressed as quietly as possible. She couldn’t figure out what to wear. When Shara said don’t dress churchy, did she mean business casual or jeans? Knowing Shara, she would show up with jeans on. It didn’t matter. Keeva couldn’t bring herself to put jeans on knowing she was going to church.

  She settled on a pair of khakis and a pink dress shirt. She grabbed her purse and snuck out the front door. Mark was a deep sleeper. If he didn’t have anywhere to go, he could sleep until noon. If church didn’t last too long, she could get back before he woke up.

  She waited outside her apartment building for Shara to drive up.

  “I would have buzzed the buzzer. You didn’t have to stand on the street waiting for me.” Shara moved a pile of books out of the passenger’s seat.

  “Mark’s upstairs asleep and I didn’t want to wake him up.”

  Shara didn’t say anything.

  Keeva gritted her teeth. It felt weird to admit to Shara that her boyfriend had spent the night. That was probably a major sin in Shara’s mind.

  About fifteen minutes later, they pulled up at an old school building on Hilliard Street. This was the church? Shara led her into the sanctuary. Keeva was glad she had worn the khakis. Everyone had on very casual clothes.

  The sanctuary was actually what must have been the school auditorium with a stage and stadium seating. The stage looked more like it was set up for a concert than a church service. There were drums, a base guitar, an electric guitar, and two, huge keyboards.

  Keeva stopped Shara, as she seemed to be heading toward the front. “Where are you going?”

  “I always sit on the front row. What’s wrong?”

  Keeva pulled back. “I don’t want to sit at the front. Can’t we just sit here?” She motioned to a row about halfway back. Shara shrugged and scooted down the row with Keeva following her.

  After a few minutes, a small group filed out onto the stage and took their places behind the instruments and a row of microphones. Everyone stood up. The band started playing some real jazzy music that was way too funky to be church music. The group started singing a song about praising God with dancing. A group of young people crowded down front around the stage. They were singing and dancing hard. They really seemed to be enjoying themselves.

  A young man with baggy jeans and cornrows took the mic and started rapping. The young people down front danced even harder. Keeva had never heard anyone rap in church before. The band switched over to a calypso song. Everyone went wild as the group sang something about the Lion of the tribe of Judah. The kids down front did some coordinated steps.

  After a few more equally rousing songs, the band switched gears and played something slow. The group sang, “. . . He’s the Worthy Lamb of God, glorify the Lamb.”

  The kids down front lifted their hands. They seemed to be as serious as they were when they were dancing.
Many people had their eyes closed and their hands lifted. Some people were swaying back and forth with the music. Others were kneeling, some were crying.

  Whatever the statement, everyone seemed to be trying to focus on God rather than on the music and the singers. Keeva looked around. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t understand what the people were feeling and didn’t want to fake it. At the same time, there was such reverence in the air, she felt as if it would be rude to sit down. She stood there with her hands at her sides.

  She’d never seen anything like this at any church she’d gone to. She was more used to hymns, anthems and spirituals sung by a well directed, robed choir. It was rare that anyone said “amen” or “hallelujah” out loud, let alone raise their hands or even think about getting “happy”. Such displays of emotion were frowned upon.

  The key changed and the lead singer said, “Come on, let’s worship Him. Sing to the Lord out of your hearts. Let Him know how much you love Him.” She sang in a strong contralto voice, “I love you Lord, and I lift my voice. . . .” Everyone joined in.

  Keeva knew the words to the song. She took a deep breath and began to sing. The more she sang, the more she relaxed. Since no one was watching her, she decided to lift her hands and close her eyes, releasing herself a bit more.

  When the next chorus ended, everyone was quiet and the music played on. The woman leading sang softly, “Now just sing a love song to the Lord, sing your own song . . .”

  Keeva heard everyone around her begin to sing. Even though they all sang something different, it all flowed together harmoniously. She began to feel something. It felt like energy—electricity, flowing through her body. It was strong and heavy, and kept coming over her in waves. It felt like love and strength and peace, and every good feeling she had ever felt before in her life. She felt this deepness, this pulling, this overwhelming something. Whatever it was, it made her nervous.